I Can't
by Mayumi-H
Summary: He's not good at making people feel better... Kanji comforts Rise when her senpai goes away.


_Shin Megami Tensei, Persona, and Persona 4 are owned by Atlus. Characters, names, and likeness are used here without permission. This is a work of fiction, and any relation to real events or persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. _

**"I Can't**..."  
**A Persona 4 Story by Mayumi-H, AKA Bonusparts**

* * *

The two of them sit alone on the little sofa in the little room above the tofu shop, the silence uncomfortable for both. That much, at least, he can tell. She invited him up for some tea, and to talk, but neither one of them has said anything yet, and he's starting to think that this was a bad idea.

He's not very good at making people feel better.

She shifts from one slender hip to the other, and he looks at her, with something like sympathy for this girl. She doesn't speak – an odd change for her – so he thinks maybe he should, even if he doesn't quite know what to say.

He starts with her name; it comes to his lips as easily as her face sometimes comes to mind:

"Rise-chan?"

He's never called her that before, but it feels right. And it's a pretty name: simple but graceful, like the way she moves in her flowing skirt, or the way her hair shifts over her shoulders, or the way her long lashes flutter as she stares away into space.

Ever so slowly, he inches his way closer to her, hesitant – always hesitant – to force things, especially with her. She's not tough like Satonaka, or composed like Yukiko-chan. And she's sure not like Naoto-kun, who still makes him nervous whenever she even looks at him.

Rise is a lover, not a fighter. She's a muse, the lilting voice in his head that inspired him in Mayonaka, telling him which foe to fight, how to do the most good, where best to throw a punch or bring down Rokuten Maou's crashing lightning.

But that's not why he hesitates.

Rise is delicate. And she's breaking.

She's been breaking since Souji stepped onto that train and said goodbye. And even though she smiled when Souji left, Kanji knows that if someone doesn't do something, soon, she'll be broken, and there won't be anything that any of them will be able to do, then.

"Listen," he says, and he has to cough to make his voice work. "I...I know how you felt about him, but..."

She looks up at him at last, and suddenly he chokes. He's never choked before, not with her. (She isn't Naoto, after all.) But there's something in her eyes, something beautiful and sad and wanting, that makes him stop and swallow whatever else it was that he was going to say; he can't even remember now, lost as he is in those big melted-chocolate-colored eyes.

In the next moment, she collapses against him, clutching him, her face buried in his chest. And then, she cries:

"Kanji-kun... Oh, Kanji-kun!"

Her tears are at once both comforting and alarming. Comforting because now she's admitted her own pain to herself, and he knows that that's the first step to getting over it. But alarming because, before this moment, he never truly realized just how deeply her feelings for their leader ran.

"He's gone," is all that she sobs, over and over again, until he thinks his brain is about to burst.

More than anything, he wants to say something, make her know that he understands, that he's there for her. But he's never been good with words. So all that he can do is just hold her, in the cramped space of her room and in the silence, silence except for her sobs.

She doesn't seem to mind.

After a while, she stops quivering. Her breath is warm and her face is wet as she leans in to the white cotton of his shirt. He tries to pull away – to look at her – but she holds tight, desperate and wanting.

He doesn't want to think about why she's still holding on, or why he hasn't let her go.

"Rise-chan, we're _friends_," he says. "You can talk to me." And then he bends his head down, his words muffled by her sweet-smelling curls as he tells her: "Don't bottle it all up inside."

She shakes her head, very slowly, rubbing her cheek against his chest. All that comes from her is the faint, steady breath that feels so warm against him, and the embrace that feels like it wants to crush him.

So he tries again, not even thinking about the words until they're already gone from his lips:

"I'd do anything for you," he whispers. "You know that."

And then she looks up at him again, dimly black rings around her eyes where her tears have smudged away her always-perfect makeup, and her nose puffy and pink, and her cheeks flushed bright. And somewhere deep in his brain he thinks that she's never been so delicate and beautiful and desirable as this.

Before he can think anything else, she leans up and kisses him; and before he knows what he's doing, he's kissing her back. No shaking, no shuddering, no quaking of his tongue or stammering in his head: just her lips and his, pressed together with a deep and somehow..._freeing_ wanting.

She pulls herself against him, her hands on his shoulders, and he wraps his arms around her, too, gathering her close, the clean, vanilla scent of her hair and the smooth touch of her skin and the sweet taste of her mouth all filling his senses. _This_ is how girls feel: soft and clutching and feather-light; as she clambers into his lap, he almost doesn't notice her weight.

She breathes his name again, the same words as before but their meaning different now:

"Kanji-kun," she says around her kisses. "Oh, Kanji-kun..."

He starts up from her, shaking his head of a sudden. "I- I can't-!" he says. "Naoto-kun," he begins, using the other girl's name like a shield against both their desires. But then the rest of his protest dies in his throat, as Rise blinks at him, so sad and silent.

Then, despite his words, he hooks his hand behind her head and kisses her again, just as desperate for her touch as she is for his.

There are other pauses, but after a while, "I can't" becomes "We shouldn't." And then "We shouldn't" becomes "Is that okay?" And then, after a longer while, their protests and questions become requests - "Hold me," and "Touch me," and "Kiss me" - until, after longer still, even the requests become quiet and muffled declarations: "You're beautiful," and "I'm here for you," and – just once, whispered softly against seeking, clinging lips – "I love you."

Even though her single futon is too small for the both of them (it would be small for just him), he stays with her, long past nightfall and into morning, his arms folded around her to keep her safe. He does it because she asks him to, and because he doesn't want to leave her alone.

Because he doesn't want to leave her.

Early the next morning, they creep out together to the street, Rise hugging herself against the dewy chill.

He moves up to her again, to put his arms around her, but she steps away.

"I can't," she mutters, shaking her head. Her curls drift dreamily around her face; they pulled them loose from her twin-tails last night, before they made her bed, together. Before they slept in it, side-by-side, together.

"Uh, wha-?" Kanji says, grimacing inwardly at how stupid he probably sounds to her. Where's the easiness with words he felt with her before...?

"Naoto-kun," she tells him in way of explanation, as she takes another step back from him. And she shudders, as though from a chill. But even when her shoulders stop shaking, her lips don't.

"Rise-chan," he says. Her name from his tongue still feels right.

She glances away, blinking her eyes quickly. Those umber curls of hers move across her cheek, obstructing his view of her perfect and beautiful face. "Just don't-!" she says, her soft, pink lips still trembling. She closes her eyes. "Just don't ever forget what we had," she mutters. And he's close enough to see the line of tears start from her eyes.

But it's not close enough.

He crosses to her in one long stride, to stand with his body beside hers, just like it was last night. He cups her round delicate cheek in his palm, and raises her face up to his. He drops his head toward hers, hovering just above a kiss.

"I can't," is all he says.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**  
I find writing game-time Kanji very difficult. My own Kanji (as seen in "1 More Chance!", over in the _Megami Tensei_ section) is older, and much more confident about his life and the decisions he's made. It's hard to capture game-Kanji's self-doubt and hesitation, and I don't know if I've succeeded, here. Plus, there are so many other writers who handle him so well, that I was leery of posting this.

But there's something about the idea of Kanji and Rise coming together that I've always really liked; I've always thought that he and Rise would be able to find their way to each other more quickly than Kanji and Naoto would. That's just my opinion, though.

Part of my "1 More Chance!" timeline? Hmm, I don't know...?


End file.
